


RUBBERHOOD OF THE WOLF

by Wirrrn



Category: Big Wolf on Campus
Genre: Bad Jokes, Bad Puns, Comedic Violence, M/M, Pretty Guys Doing Messy But Fun Things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-15 21:48:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2244552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wirrrn/pseuds/Wirrrn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merton accidentally triggers a lycanthropic allergy in Tommy during their sex play. To the Biology Department!</p>
            </blockquote>





	RUBBERHOOD OF THE WOLF

  
                        
 **RUBBER-HOOD OF THE WOLF**  
  
                                                                                                         by  
                                                                                                     WIRRRN  
  
  
  
                                                                     "Beware the Evil face of Science, people! It bites!"  
                                                                                                    -THE TICK  
  
  
                                                                        "Oh, the fellows at Radio Shack said I was mad,   
                                                                      but who's mad now?! _Hahahahahahahahahahaha_!"   
                                                                              -THE SIMPSONS: TREEHOUSE OF HORROR II  
  
  
                                                           "-You don't understand; that's the normal,sensible  way of doing things;   
                                                                                        I doubt it'll even occur to them!  
                                                          -You see by now they've had time to come up with ...God help us...a plan!"  
                                                                                           -MISFITS OF SCIENCE  
  
                                                                                                      *    *    *    *  
  
  
  
"Ow! Ooow! Owwwoooooooooshit!"  
  
"-Tommy, oh God, I'm so sorry!"  
  
Tommy Dawkins turns to face his best friend and lover.

"Merton, quit apologizing! It wasn't your fault. I mean sure, you designed and manufactured that new lube for us to try out, and sure you didn't test it on anything first to see if I'd be allergic to it before you slicked yourself up and... Wait; how is this not your fault again, exactly?!"  
  
The Goth looks even more guilty than he did a moment ago. Merton's mournful expression is unlike him, Tommy thinks. A few more minutes of moping and his boyfriend would actually be *behaving* like a Goth, rather than his usual approach of dressing in a Gothly fashion but behaving more like a cheerfully mad scientist who doubled as a rodeo clown on weekends.

The werewolf tries a reassuring smile. But between the pins and needles, the itching  
  
(Tommy sends up yet another prayer of thanks to the Patron Saints of Freshman Lycanthropes, Taylor Lautner, Tyler Hoechlin, Joe Manganiello and Jason Bateman, that he and Merton were only having *oral* sex when he became allergic to the lubricant)

and the snaggled fangs, there wasn't a real reassurey vibe in the room.  
  
He tries again. "It's okay, Merton. Really. I mean, it's gonna have to wear off sooner or later, right buddy?....Merton?.... _RIGHT_?!"

The Goth's voice comes from across the room. "-Er, Tommy? I'm over here; you're molesting a SANDMAN poster."

The werewolf pauses in the act of trying to dry-hump what he'd assumed was his best friend into a better mood. "Oh. That explains why you taste of cardboard instead of Sandalwood and that raven on your shoulder."

Merton comes over. Tussling a worried hand through his wild hair spikes and ignoring the resultant static charge

(so much voltage has now been absorbed by the house from Merton rubbing his hair spikes, Tommy rubbing Merton's hair spikes and Merton's hair spikes rubbing against naked Tommy in wolf-form, that numerous dead pets from Merton's childhood -six goldfish, two axolotls,an Australian mole cricket and a gerbil called Mr Gere- have reanimated and now hold a nightly, if diminutive, reign of terror over a six-backyard radius)

he gently hugs the taller boy from behind. "-You still can't see much?"

"Not too good. Everything looks blurred, too bright and fake looking. It's like I'm trapped in a Michael Bay movie."

Merton has now begun massaging his lover's tanned shoulders. Tommy whuffs in pleasure and tilts his head back, bonelessly. Merton nuzzles the resultant expanse of long, lolling neck like Kirsten Stewart sizing up another victim.   
  
(No, I meant Kirsten Stewart).

Then Tommy's eyes open and Merton fails to suppress a wince at the array of squiggly, vermiform, bright green veins that pulse in time with his blinking like radioactive spaghetti-os.  
  
"-Don't you worry, Tommy. I'm sure that the Chemistry department will have an antidote. A counter draught, a soothing balm, some Jekyll-and Hyde-esque reagent if you will, that'll have you feeling like a new man in no time."  
  
"A new man? Nah, I'll stick with you, buddy, if it's all the sa...wait, Chemistry department? Merton, please don't tell me you whipped up something we were going to use in our sex-play during _Science Class_!"  
  
"-Well, I got bored, Tommy! It was Frog Dissection, and I couldn't do that, so Miss French had me alphabetize the Periodic Table! That wasn't challenging enough... I mean, what else was I supposed to do?!"  
  
"Harsh, buddy!" Tommy pauses. "But you're a Science Major -I didn't know you were opposed to Biology Dissections. Wasn't Igor your childhood hero?"  
  
Merton nodded. "-Yes, but it's cruel and unnecessary and should be banned; Plus there was that... incident last term when I wired their little amphibian leg nerves to the school's electrical mains supply and had them dance a jig to "The Rainbow Connection."  
  
"Oh yeah, now I remember; You got banned from Biology Tutorials *and* the Drama club on the same day. But Merton, making a lube in class is a whole different kettle of fi... Oh God, Merton, you didn't let the teacher know what you were doing, did you?"  
  
"-Ummm..."  
  
"*Merton*! You discussed our Sex-life with one of the faculty?!"  
  
"-I know it's kind of extra-curricular, Tommy, but-"  
  
" _Extra_  Curricular? It's not even _on_  the curriculum!"  
  
"-Yeah, you see, that's what 'Extra-Curricular' actually mea-"  
  
Tommy's not listening.

"What possessed  you to make one of our professors picture me oiled and naked, Merton?" A strange gleam enters the jock's eyes. "Oh wait, something didn't *literally* possess you, did it?"    
  
"-Forget it Tommy, we're not tying me to the bed and playing "The Sexorcist" again; those sheets chafed my ankles."  
  
The other boy looks disappointed. "Oh. Well anyway, what were you thinking, discussing our mating behaviour in class? Name me one after school special dealing with KY Jelly-related Gay sex mishaps!"  
  
Merton thinks. "-Well, there was that time Spinner Mason and Sean Cameron got muscles cramps when they-"  
  
"Oh, DEGRASSI HIGH doesn't count, there's no issue of the week that they haven't covered!"  
  
Tommy is (literally) a hair's breadth away from wolfing out. Only the fact that Merton is his best friend, the love of his life and an almost supernaturally phenomenal lay all wrapped up in one spiky, patchouli-scented package stops him from going SILVER BULLET there and then.  
  
(Here the jock pauses to note he definitely has to cut down on the Corey Haim movies).  
  
Merton instinctively knows the other boy would never hurt him  
  
(thank the Maker he took those Tantric Yoga classes)  
  
and gently strokes Tommy's cheeks...er, cheek- with a pale hand. In seconds, the Wolf has put on its sheep's clothing and letterman jacket again.  
  
"I'm sorry, Merton." The apologetic jock's now blunted teeth gently graze his boyfriend's lips as they kiss. "Okay! Let's go over to the campus and work on this antidote! We'll still make the CHILDREN OF THE CORN movie marathon, right buddy?, I mean how long can it take, right?"  
  
Merton surreptitiously guages the distance between himself and the door.  
  
"-Well, it _hah-hah_!- could take a while, Tommy. You see I tinkered with the basic lube formula. I added a few stray oxides, certain flavoursome alkalis, the occasional shameless little sulfate. All quite low on the Periodic Table, Tommy, don't worry- I'm not stupid enough to fiddle with any of the ones ending in "ium".  
  
"You _tinkered_ with something that was going to end up smeared all over my naked tethered regions?"  
  
"-That's _nether_ regions, Tommy." A pause. "...Though your phrasing would be accurate if you're talking about that time when I put that dog collar around your-"  
  
"Merton!" Tommy's eyes are distinctly cat-pupiled again.  
  
The Goth's normal chalky pallor has blushed until he resembles some sort of anaemic rosebush. "-I know, Tommy. I should have checked my ratios a bit more thoroughly. And I probably shouldn't have swapped the jojoba for glycerol, seeing as how it has Monkshood in it."

Chemistry normally isn't Tommy's strong suite; when it comes to the Sciences, he tends to prefer Astronomy

(though he has to be careful around textbooks that feature particularly realistic illustrations of the Lunar Surface-anything with photos by NASA usually means he starts getting odd looks from the other students and comments about his hair and nails needing a working over from the Fab Five)

but Merton mentioning Monkshood has him shuffling chemical symbols in his head like a furrier Vanna White. "Monkshood? Awww, buddy, that's Digitalis!  _Wolfsbane!"_

Merton nods. "-But I didn't know that at the time; the label just read "Foxglove", and it reminded me of that time when we tried out Fisting, and I...got kinda distracted."  
  
Tommy facepalms, wearily. "So in other words, you Blinded Me With Science?!"  
  
*   *    *    

The drive to the Science Department from The Lair would have usually only taken ten minutes. This time takes considerably longer, due to Tommy 'suggesting' they make a snack-stop at The Hungry Bucket 

(though it was a somewhat loaded suggestion, given that he wolfed out, looked at Merton's pale body and licked his lips as he made it)

and then he'd insisted on sitting up front in the passenger seat of the Hearse, wound the window all the way down and stuck his head out for the entire journey.

But eventually, the pair arrives at the school. Tommy blinks in the dark, forming a question as best he can with an armful of amorous Goth attempting to crawl inside his hide.

"Mwwwtnn?" Tommy slides his lover's tongue to one side and tries again. "Merton? Not that I'm complaining about the making out or anything, but if we're here to get the antidote to my little T-Zone problem, then why did you drag us into this Supply Closet? And _don't_  tell me it was to get Supplies."

Merton has, of course, been planning on telling the wolfman exactly that, banking on his boyfriend's mind to be lust-fogged enough to buy the excuse with a less biting degree of skepticism than that with which he usually greeting Merton's theories, suggestions, plans, shopping lists, pronouncements of the time of day... The paler youth is somewhat flummoxed that his lycanthropic lover still seems in possession of all of his faculties. Usually, it took nothing more than one trip of the Goth Fantastic for Tommy's deductive reasoning powers to be reduced to the level of a leaf-cutter ant, or, if his tongue was especially limber after Debating Class, the Dubya Administration.

Merton briefly worries that his snogging ability may have come under some kind of supernatural attack, or perhaps that Becky had been spiking his cologne with lawn clippings and cheese-whip again, when he remembers Tommy's allergy. Of course! The poor werewolf _can't_ appreciate the sensory wonders of Merton J Dingle when his face is puffier than a Chow Hound's!

Relieved, Merton takes the taller boy's hand and gives it a re-assuring squeeze. Tommy leans into the resultant hug, and is just making a move towards the waistband of the other boy's jeans when a pair of pale Goth hands flicker past his eyes in the gloom like albino bird-eating spiders and move to his collar bone.  
  
 ** _//CLICK//_**  
  
"Um, Merton? What did you just do?"  
  
"-Don't worry, Tommy; nothing serious. Certainly nothing that'd get you mad at me _hahahahaha_!"

Merton tugs the closet door open, and the werewolf blinks in the sudden light. He also notices a white blur where he distinctly remembers his nose and lower face being, at least the last time he looked. He raises his hands to touch a rigid, plastic cone, inverted around his neck region.

"Aww, Merton! You've put a cone of shame on me? I know it worked that time I got fleas from Lori's Pomeranian, but I'm not gonna scratch myself in public again, honest!"

The Goth raises an eyebrow. "-Yeah, you say that  _now;_  meanwhile I'm the one banned for life from all future Tim Burton festiva...hang on, Tommy; that's not why I put the collar on you; this isn't about me getting in some sort of Punitive Vengeance."

  
"Punitive?"  
  
But Merton was off. "...a Blood Feud. Nay, a Grisly yet fitting Irony-laden Retribution! A Berserker Cry for Satisfaction echoing from the marrow of my very bo-"  
  
"Merton?!"  
  
"-Er, yes?"

Tommy has cocked his head as much as the conical collar would allow, doing a reasonable imitation of HIS MASTER'S VOICE, sans gramophone, in the process. "So what you're saying is that this isn't some kind of payback, right?"  
  
"-Of course not Tommy, you're my guy.I love you. Besides, if I ever did anything like that, I'd go in for something more flamboyant and Occulty... Y'know, a galloping case of pubic mange, or something."  
  
"I'm confused. This is meant to be reassuring?"  
  
Merton takes the tanner boy by the hand. "-The collar has to stay on for a little while longer, Tommy; Only till we're down the next few hallways, though."  
  
"You're hiding something from me, aren't you?"  
  
"-Heh heh...Of course not, Tommy! Whatever...hehheh...Whatever gave you that idea?"  
  
"Aside from this inverted lampshade around my head, you mean?! Well, you've got the same look on your face you had just before you told me that you'd accidentally flash-frozen Dean."

Merton looks vaguely offended. Only vaguely, due to a healthy portion of guilt (here he makes a mental note to concoct some sort of anti-guilt reagent in the future; it would make his life a lot more expedient) and the fact that the person in charge of the affronting is the hottest werewolf this side of certain censored shots from VAN HELSING.   
  
"-C'mon, Tommy; I thawed your brother out in time for the Fall TV schedule, didn't I?"  
  
"Well, yeah buddy, but he still asks me why that guy from SAVED BY THE BELL is on NYPD BLUE now instead of that SILVER SPOONS dude. Anyway, Merton. No more games- c'mon now...gush."  
  
Merton blazes pink "-Right here in the hallway?"  
  
Tommy face-palms as much as the collar will allow. "No, I mean tell me what's going on. We love each other, right? We don't keep secrets from each other."  
  
"-We don't? er, that's right, we don't. I gave you that collar for your own protection, Tommy." He begins moving down the corridor again, towing the jock along.  
  
Tommy lets Merton guide him, instinctively lowering his voice. "So any guards won't recognize me if we get spotted?"  
  
Merton sighs. "-No, so you can't read certain signs we'll be passing that might cause you to fly into a panic. Er...Not that there's any reason to panic, of course."  
  
"Of course." Tommy (of course) has begun panicking, as he always does when Merton sounds calm and starts making rational sense.  
  
"This place we're going... It isn't the Chemistry Department is it, Merton?"  
  
"-Well... not as such, no. But there are Chemicals in it!"  
  
Tommy's mind is ticking over. "Let's see now, if we're in the Science Wing but not headed to the Chemistry Department, that only leaves Biological Sciences, which we've just passed on the right there..."  
  
Merton nods, impressed. "You could smell the Rat dissections, right?"  
  
"Not the Rat dissections, the sawdust that absorbs the vomit from the Freshmen who have to _do_ the Rat dissections."  
  
"-Oh. Good nose, anyway."   
  
Tommy smiles at the compliment, "...So that just leaves Palaeontology, Geology, the Physics Department, which I assume we're not heading to unless the Cure involves us traveling to an Alternate Universe, hahahaha... it doesn't, right?"  
  
"-No!"  
  
The werewolf wipes stray sweat from his brow. "Cool. Well, if none of those departments are what we want, then we must be heading for... _Yiiiiipe_!"  
  
Merton has been expecting this, and makes a grab for the fleeing werewolf's shoulder. "-Oh no you don't, Tommy!"  
  
"AuuuughnottheVeterinaryschoolauuughnovetsIhatevetsauuugh..."  
  
"-Tommy Dawkins! _Heel_!!"  
  
Tommy immediately stopped trying to chew through the wall and returned to his boyfriend's side, quietly. He grumbled at Merton out of the side of his mouth. "I hate when you do that!"  
  
Merton, deciding the cat has already been let out of the bag and said bag being thrown to the wolves, reaches up and unfastens the lampshade collar from around Tommy's neck. "-Okay, Tommy. So we're going to the Veterinary Science Department. That doesn't mean I'm going to have you _neutered_  for Anakin's sake! I've got a vested interest in your reproductive equipment, remember?"  
  
Tommy had to concede that his friend did have a point. "Well, I still don't like being here. What if someone tried to vivisect me? Y'know, do some kind of paper on the Eating Habits of the North American Werewolf?"  
  
Merton paused. "-Then they wouldn't have to dissect you Tommy, they could get a reasonable picture of your diet from all those Hungry Bucket containers you've got crammed into my Hearse. I hear the Pleasantville Re-Zoning Committee wants to name a landfill after you."  
  
"Oh. Okay then, lead on. But I see one worming tablet, Merton, and I won't be held responsible."  
  
"-Duly noted."  
  
*   *    *    
  
The Veterinary Department Labs were dark and quiet when the boys crept in through the side entrance.  
  
-It remains dark and quiet for approximately 1/1000th of a second; the Quiet part being tackled by Merton's ever-present technobabble and the dark being dispelled by the sulfur glow from Tommy's eyes (which lights up Merton's chalky pallor and makes him glow yellow by proxy).  
  
Tommy looks about them. "Okay buddy, we're here- get with the curing."  
  
Merton shoots him a look. "-This is a complicated Scientific-cum-Magickal procedure, Tommy! I have to find out the Periodic Table listing for Wolfsbane, track down a suitable antigen, measure the atomic weight and then put a sample in the centrifuge  for a few hours to separate..."  
  
"...Oh; because I was thinking that the sooner we got back home, the sooner I'd be clamping my tight, hot ass down on that big, pale cock of yours, buddy. I'm in the mood to be on the bottom tonight. The moon's waxing, y'know."  
  
"-Ulp? I mean.... _eeep_?!.... I mean, like I said, Tommy, this shouldn't take more than a couple of minutes."  
  
Tommy, grinning in lupine triumph, has moved over to a wall of bottle chemicals so massive it resembles the warehouse during the final scene of RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK, only with more ethanol and less bluescreen.  
  
"Is this one of the things you need, babe?"  
  
Merton's alabaster shadow is suddenly beside him, peering at the label on the vial in his hand. "-Yup, that's the stuff, Tommy. Give it here."  
  
Tommy watches as Merton unscrews the top of the bell jar, revealing a foul smelling, and not particularly pleasing to the eye either, bright neon blue goop residing within. "So, I have to like, swallow a spoonful of this crap?"  
  
Merton moves the jar away from his sensitive nose. "-Um, yeah Tommy; Something like that-Ooh look" he points over the jock's head. "-Nessie!"  
  
Tommy looks up. "Huh?"  
  
-And Merton throws the entire content of the foul-smelling, gross-looking jar over into his boyfriend's face.  
  
"AUUUGH!"  
  
The dripping, neon-blue Tommy shape that results is far from happy, from what can be heard of the outraged sputtering sounds and somewhat phlegmy howls.

Then, with a surprised, muffled

"-Whuff?" 

the litany of larcenous lupine longshoreman language  
  
(try saying that three times fast through a mouthful of Merton's medicine)

suddenly stops.  
  
"Merton! Hey buddy, my allergy's gone... I can see clearly! My face is better! I'm cured! I'm normal! I...look like one of Jabba the Hutt's boogers..."

Merton hands the soggy jock a Hungry Bucket bucket full to the brim with face and hand refreshment sachets.  
  
Tommy raises an eyebrow, dislodging a miniature landslide of goop from his hairline in the process.

  
"You expect me to clean myself off with these?"  
  
Merton pauses in the act of stripping, his grin widening to Alien Queen dimensions. "-Well yeah, Tommy, but you won't have to do it alone. C'mon, nude up already. Male Nurse St Jacque taught me more than just turning the student body into my own personal pin-cushion, y'know. I'm an expert at giving spongebaths. And look-"

he produces a battered looking video tape.

"-I still have my old "How To" tape. This way, we can follow it and not have any...adverse reactions."

  
Tommy, now naked except for his socks  
  
(which have been rendered fuzzy and neon blue by the allergy treatment; Tommy's feet appear like those of a Hobbit that's been drowned in a Middle Earth lake for six weeks)  
  
and takes a look at the videotape.  
  
"Merton, that's not your videotape. THE CARE AND BATHING OF MASTIFFS, DANES AND OTHER LARGE CANINES? You just picked that up _here,_ from the Veterinary labs."  
  
Merton is bending over to slide the videotape into a nearby VCR, and Tommy's senses are momentarily scrambled by the epitome of pale Goth asses. Merton grunts "-Okay, Tommy, but I'll still help you out. And if I bathe you in exact concordance with the video, what could go wrong?"  
  
"Concordance?"  
  
-The video fades up from black, revealing a thuggish young man lathering up a Doberman. He looks at the camera. "When bathing a larger dog, you should always remember...  _Dingle_!"  
  
Merton gasps."-Butch Jenkins?!   
  
And Tommy facepalms. "uh-oh."  
  
\---------------------------END-------------------------  
  
  
  
  
=====

**Author's Note:**

> As always, this one goes out to Colton Haynes. He knows why!


End file.
